Ghost Hunter
by Frances
Summary: My name is Kagome Higurashi. I see dead people. Think it's a joke? Well, you ought to see me at work. As a professional ghost hunter, I thought I'd seen everything there was to see. But getting sucked down a 500 yearold well? That's weird, even for me.


**GHOST HUNTER**

**By: Frances**

Chapter One

My name is Kagome Higurashi. I see dead people.

I know what you're thinking. Oh no, another cliche. Another misguided parapsycho, chasing little green men through the crop circles. Another crazy quack, swimming upstream against the reputable river of science and common sense. But I'm telling you, my work is real.

Those who pay for my services understand just how valuable I am. And those who don't– well, they don't know it, but they need me most of all.

I come from a long line of priestesses and live at my family's shrine, which is also where my office is. I live alone. Once, my grandfather, mother, and brother all joined me here, but one by one they trickled out until only I was left at this spiritual center, straddling the present world and the next. My grandfather was the last to leave– it was just me and him here for a year or two. He still checks in every now and again, but he technically died three months ago. Mama lives near the beach now, and Sota works as a video game designer.

I rise with the dawn today, as usual– the spirits stir at this hour, and won't allow me to sleep any longer. Most people think midnight is the "witching hour," but it isn't actually true. For youkai and hanyou, maybe, but not for ghosts. Ghosts like the hour just before dawn, when the world is suspended between consciousness and dreaming. I think it's the time they're most comfortable on earth.

I yawn lazily, lumbering over to my window and raising the shades. The sun is just peeking over the horizon, beginning to stain the inky sky with its hungry pink glow. The grounds are unusually quiet this morning. I look out over the dew-kissed lawn and see a few fresh spirits mulling about– a teenaged girl and an elderly man-- but it looks as though they will make it to the other side without me. I also see Kikyo, brooding by the well house as usual.

Kikyo is the reason my life is what it is. Actually, to be more precise– she's me. You see, I was born with only half a soul. I suppose I had unfinished business, like so many wandering spirits, but what made me unusual was that I apparently split into two. One half was reincarnated– hence, Kagome Higurashi. The other half is Kikyo.

I'm not sure what keeps her. God knows I've tried to find out. I've never lost a case except for Kikyo's, and I've been working on her longer than anyone else. I've probably been working on her since before I was born. She never speaks to me, except to throw out an insult or two. When I address her, she plainly ignores me. One night when I was sixteen, I came home late from a party and saw Kikyo circling the well house, over and over again, weeping. She was crying, "Inuyasha!" with every pass, in this horrible wail that only the tortured dead can achieve. That's the only real word I've ever heard her speak. So far, I haven't a clue what it means.

Though she's certainly more than a drag, I suppose I would have a very different life if it weren't for Kikyo. It's my incomplete soul that allows me to commune with the dead, and to be honest that's my greatest joy. Most people become doctors when they want to help others... I ferry souls to the afterlife. It's not a bad gig, if you know how to sail.

Once I'm fully dressed, I head down to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, before checking my schedule and getting ready for the first hunt of the day.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

The good thing about being a ghost therapist is giving help to those who seriously need it. The bad thing about being a ghost therapist is dealing with the people who don't.

I sigh as I get out of my car and look up at Mrs. Tanabe's sprawling mansion. She is an old widow, and the paranormal equivalent of a hypochondriac. If it's not clinking chains, it's howling voices or footsteps in the hall or shadowy figures at the foot of her bed at night. If it weren't for the fact that she gives amazing tips, I probably wouldn't waste my time anymore. This is my third visit in the last four weeks.

Before I have made it halfway up the walk, Mrs. Tanabe has bustled out to me, beaming from ear to ear. "Kagome, dear, it's so good to see you!" She takes my hands enthusiastically, and her expression becomes suddenly grave. "I only wish it did not have to be in such dire circumstances."

I smile politely, patting her knarled old hands. "Not to worry, Mrs. Tanabe. I'm sure we'll find the source of your troubles." I roll my eyes mentally at the tremendous lie I've just told. I know Mrs. Tanabe's troubles, and none of them are outside her head. Poor woman... the sad thing is I think she's mostly just lonely. It's a very large house...

She is ushering me up her front porch steps when a flash of blue catches my eye and I am drawn to a walkway I never noticed before, curling around the back of the house.

"Mrs. Tanabe, might I ask where that pathway leads?" I've already taken a few steps in that direction, craning my neck to see around to its destination. Mrs. Tanabe laughs.

"Oh that? It's nothing. Just leads to an old guest house that nobody's been in since poor Tomoji died." She holds a withered finger to her chin, making a big show of wracking her memory. "Let's see... that was three years ago? No, it was four. He died seven years after Mr. Tanabe. Bless his soul."

Now I'm interested. "Tomoji?" I ask seriously, my eyes not leaving the corner behind which the blue light disappeared. Wouldn't it be insanely ironic if– after a year of false alarms– Mrs. Tanabe got her phantom after all?

"Oh, yes. My darling Tomoji... He was our gardener for thirty years, and he lived here with us for at least 25. A good man, and a good personal friend. Kept me company after Mr. T passed on. Bless his soul, bless his soul. Oh, but the old shack is abandoned now." Her brow furrowed, as if some inkling of an idea had begun to dig its way out of her elderly mind. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I say quickly, snapping back to attention. "I just thought it was... A lovely walkway. That's all. Shall we proceed?"

Mrs. Tanabe nods emphatically and we head into her house as she begins rattling off its symptoms this time. "I've been hearing the strangest noises from the walls," she says with wide, globular eyes. "Hissing, like snakes. And the water temperature has been completely erratic! I'll be in a freezing cold shower one second, and the next– swshh! It's scalding hot. It's unnatural, I say," she whispers conspiratorially.

My eyes narrow suspiciously, and I am already anticipating the cause of her "haunting."

"Mrs. Tanabe," I say delicately, "Is there any room in the house where you noticed the sound was... particularly intense?"

She jumps as though she's been caught committing a terrible crime. "Oh, yes!" she declares. "I can hardly believe I forgot! Come right this way, dear, right this way..." And we're off, hustling up a beautiful spiral staircase and down a narrow hallway. We are headed towards a short, inconspicuous door. I resist the urge to sigh. "Leave it to me to forget the most important detail!" old Mrs. Tanabe laughs warmly, her leathery face crinkling into a dry map of winding riverbeds. "Here it is." She points to the small door. "This is the room that's making the most of the noise! It's a frightful thing to listen to at night... simply frightful! I can't find the courage to enter, myself."

I smile obligingly at her tightly drawn expression, before reaching for the doorknob. Mrs. Tanabe steps back, clutching a delicate handkerchief she has procured from her blouse. I open the door slowly, sticking my head in for a peek first before chuckling quietly at what I see. I throw the door open wide and Mrs. Tanabe shrieks.

"There we are," I announce, trying not to smile too much.

"Is it a poltergeist?!" she asks shrilly.

"No, Mrs. Tanabe... it's a water heater."

Her face is incredibly blank. "A... water heater?"

"Yes, m'am. It's a broken water heater. You hear it? It's making strange noises as we speak." I point gently toward the machine, trying not to make her feel stupid but wanting to move on to my next case nonetheless.

"Well, that is simply appalling!" Mrs. Tanabe huffs. "I had it replaced only two years ago! I'll call that repairman and give him a piece of my mind, to be sure." She wrings her hands a moment, before eying me sincerely. "You're... certain my house isn't being haunted."

I smile very warmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Good ol' Mrs. T. She means well. "I'm absolutely positive, Mrs. Tanabe, that your house is _not_ being haunted."

She sighs with relief, and redeposits her handkerchief between her bosom. "Well, I am glad to hear that! Would you like some tea, dear, before you go?"

I am hesitant.

"I've got cookies in the oven as we speak," she offers tantalizingly.

Well... I suppose a cup of tea never hurt anyone.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

I am late the rest of the day because of my cookie-lust. By the time I return home, it's been dark for an hour. I unlock the backdoor and step into my kitchen, already imagining the amazing bath I'm about to have. After a hard day of spirit counseling, there's nothing quite like a–

I gasp as something small and furry tries to bolt out the door. "Buyo!" I cry, my priestess reflexes helping me snatch my cat before he can escape. "What on earth has gotten into you?" I chastise as I shut the door with my heel and reach for the light switch. I hit it, but nothing happens. I flip it a few times, just to be sure. "Shoot! I better check the fuse box. All right, Buyo, off you go." I try to drop him, but he mewls like a kitten and digs his claws into my shirt, so deeply that he nearly breaks skin. "Ouch! What's the matter with you?!" With some effort, I manage to tear him away and drop him unceremoniously onto the kitchen tile. He hisses angrily, but I just roll my eyes. "You scratched me!" I say, "What do you expect?" Naturally, Buyo does not reply– instead, he scampers off and crouches behind the refrigerator. Maybe it stormed while I was out, I think tentatively, now beginning to feel slightly nervous. I am feeling around for a flash light when a loud noise catches my attention. It's coming from the living room.

My heart jumps. I quietly grab the largest knife in my kitchen and begin creeping down the hall. As I approach, I see a faint blue glow and immediately breathe a sigh of relief. A ghost! Spirits are one thing, burglars are another. At least I'm in familiar territory now. I relax and proceed normally into my living room where—

"AAAAAGH!"

I have bumped into a ghost– literally. Imagine walking into a waterfall of dried ice, and you'll have some idea of what this feels like.

"Kikyo!" I cry, grabbing my chest in startled frustration. "What are you doing, lurking around like that?! And why did you cut the lights?"

She stares at me blankly, as usual, the only movement being the steady phantom breeze that teases her hair. Her eyes are a void.

"Oh, why do I even bother?!" I growl, giving her a very dirty look. "All you ever do is mope. Mope, mope, mope, and never speak. You know it's kind of ironic that a ghost hunter has to spend her entire life being haunted!!" I am walking past her and shaking my head, trying to get to the closet where the fuse box is tucked a way.

"I'd think you were a poltergeist, Kikyo, the way you cause trouble around–"

My heart stops. I cannot continue speaking, because my teeth are clenched against the unimaginable pain that I am suddenly experiencing. A half-groan escapes my lips as I use every ounce of strength to move my eyes downward.

Where I see Kikyo's arm, glowing black and plunged deep into my stomach.

In retrospect, I wish I hadn't eaten so many of Mrs. T's cookies.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N: This idea's been rolling around in my head for awhile. I'm actually finding it very easy to write, so perhaps I will be updating this story on a daily or bi-daily basis! I know Kagome is not very IC but... It's AU. And she's a ghost hunter. And I like her this way. Heh. There's still enough of the IC Kagome in there to make for some good InuKag, which is almost certainly what this story will be unless the reviewers (ie.- you!) violently protest. I like to have things planned, but I almost never have the plot **_**completely**_** planned... So if you'd really like the story to go a certain way, let me know and I'll def. take it into consideration!**

**Please review if you liked it! It helps me get my think-tank going and keep the ideas flowing. I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1!**

**Frances**


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